


Unbreakable

by MrsHamill



Series: Grandmother Raven: The Path of a Shaman [11]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst and Humor, First Times, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-08-10
Updated: 2001-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 07:06:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/795249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsHamill/pseuds/MrsHamill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jim and Blair go on vacation and Morrie gets worried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unbreakable

**Author's Note:**

> The eleventh part of the Grandmother Raven: the Path of a Shaman series. We're out of shows now, folks, and entering the realm of pure speculation. Follows TSbyBS. For Fox, of course; now that I've beaten the beta out of her [ducks]. Caveat: what I know about La Paz came from websites. If I get something wrong, mea culpa. I'm very fond of this one.

_"Hearts will never be made practical 'til they are made unbreakable."_  
  
          -- the Wizard to the Tin Woodsman in _The Wizard of Oz_  
  


* * *

As it turned out, Berkshire Publishing House took the high road almost immediately, letting Sid Graham go and settling the civil suit brought against them by Blair Sandburg and James Ellison for half a million dollars, combined.

Okay, so once Uncle Sam got his grubby paws on it, it was significantly less than that. But still, it was a nice chunk of change. More money that Blair Sandburg had seen all in one place -- his pathetic bank account, actually -- in his life. More money than he felt should actually be _in_ there, since Jim wouldn't take a dime, writing his portion of the check over to Blair immediately. "What do I need with more dough, Chief?" he had asked, when Blair objected. "It was never about the money anyway, and besides, I've got everything I've ever wanted, right here." And then Jim had smiled one of those new smiles, the ones he'd been using of late whenever he looked at Blair, the ones that made Blair's knees go weak.

Jim Ellison could smile to beat the band.

He was walking better too, the tissue and muscle almost healed, and he was about ready to go off partial disability and back into full-time, full-strength police work. They had one more three-day weekend, then Jim would be back to work. And two weeks after that, Blair would start at the academy, taking firearms and self-defense training and testing out of required courses. That is, if he still wanted to.

Exonerated, Blair could go anywhere and do anything now, just as Jim could. Berkshire and Chancellor Edwards were now considered the bad guys and Jim and Blair the poor victims -- a view furthered by the media. Jim had called in a favor Wendy Hawthorne -- still in Cascade after all this time -- owed him and had given her an 'exclusive' interview, explaining their side of the story. It was a wild and wooly tale they spun, but with Wendy's wry help (she didn't believe a word of it but didn't say so) it spun, and spun beautifully.

Cascade's Sentinel was free again to serve and protect the city he loved, and Cascade's shaman was...

Cascade's Shaman was at loose ends, actually. Despite the fact that Grandmother had pronounced him through the fire and a full shaman, Blair was still twisting in the wind, still unsure of his path. He'd never really been presented with so many choices before, and the options made him all but giddy.

He could go to another school -- several had approached him -- and continue to work towards his Ph.D. He could go on any one of a number of field research trips, with old friends and mentors. He could go to another school and start all over again, in a different major, a different discipline. Or, he could go ahead, go to the academy, become a cop, become Jim's partner full time. He could even do a combination of any of those things -- or none of them, and take on a life of leisure.

And underlying it all was Jim's smile, a yet to be fulfilled promise of things that could be.

So while Jim put in his requisite half-day of desk duty one rainy day, it was a dithering Blair Sandburg that went to Costco and saw the big sign over the checkout counters: JUST IN TIME TRIPS. LA PAZ, MEXICO, CROWNE PLAZA RESORT. Three nights, four days. $799 per person, all inclusive, fly this Thursday, return Sunday. Blair didn't hesitate longer than it took to read the sign before purchasing two tickets.

* * *

  
"La Paz?" Jim blinked as he looked at the tickets Blair handed him.  
  
"You'd need one extra day off," Blair said, nearly jumping in his excitement. "I know you can get it. We'll fly down Thursday, come back Sunday. Be all fresh Monday. C'mon, Jim, you know you want to do it. I'll spring for deep-sea fishing..."  
  
Bemused, Jim regarded his partner as Blair's wheedling voice drifted off. "Deep-sea fishing, huh?" Inwardly chuckling, Jim kept a straight face. "I dunno, Chief. Not sure the ol' leg is up to reeling in one of those swordfish."  
  
Blair didn't believe a word of it, luckily for Jim. "Yeah, right. I see right through you, Ellison, you can't hide the salivating. Call it in, get the time; we are so out of here -- in two days."  
  
Laughing, Jim went to the phone. "You sure you wouldn't rather take someone from the Sandburg Harem?" he asked, off-hand, as he dialed.  
  
"You're the only one I want to take, Jim," Blair replied, and Jim looked up at the suddenly soft tone. What he saw on Blair's face nearly made him choke -- then the phone was answered.  
  


* * *

  
It was hot in Mexico, and it wasn't raining. Just for those two reasons alone, Blair could have kissed the tarmac under his feet. But the fact that Jim Ellison was beside him...  
  
After a long, bumpy plane ride and a short, bumpy bus ride, they arrived at the Crowne Plaza Resort, which, for once, lived up to its reputation. Understated rather than opulent, it nevertheless had everything a decadence-seeker could want: deep, blue pools (with pool-side bars), a nightclub, excellent dining accommodations, accessibility to the beach and amenities therein, and of course, luxurious, air-conditioned rooms.  
  
In their case, with one king-size bed.  
  
The porter might have been puzzled over why his two charges burst into laughter when they came into the room, but a five dollar tip could cure a lot of curiosity. Seeing the man out, Jim turned around and once again started to laugh. "Tell me the truth, Sandburg," he said, looking down at the acres of fiesta bedspread, "did you do this on purpose?"  
  
"I swear, man," Blair laughed, bouncing on the bed, "I did not. We _can_ ask for another room, you know."  
  
Jim surprised Blair by flopping down next to him. "Nah," he said, stretching the last of the airplane kinks out with audible pops, "it's not a big deal. It won't bother me... this bed is big enough for four."  
  
"Or eight if they're well-acquainted," Blair added, wiggling his eyebrows. "It _is_ comfortable. If you're okay with it, so'm I."  
  
Jim rolled to his side and propped his head up on one hand. "This was a good idea. Thanks, Chief. I don't remember if I said that or not."  
  
Blair shrugged and copied Jim's movement, facing him. "If you didn't, you have now. It must have been fate that led me to Costco that day."  
  
"Fate and a lack of toilet paper," Jim snorted. "Maybe it was your, uh, I don't know, shamanic powers coming out."  
  
"Oh, please," Blair replied, flopping to his back and stretching his hands out over his head. "I may be a full shaman now, but I sure as hell don't feel like it."  
  
Through the movement of the bed, Blair could feel Jim sit up. "What would being a shaman feel like?" he said, his voice curious. "I mean, Grandmother doesn't have any weird powers, does she? She just looks -- and acts -- like a normal, stubborn, crotchety old woman."  
  
By turning his head slightly, Blair could see Jim, his legs stretched out before him, propped up on his arms. Drooping his eyelids, Blair indulged himself in Jim-watching, one of his favorite pastimes lately. "I'm telling her you said that," he grinned. "I don't know what it's supposed to feel like. Maybe I already feel like it and don't know it. I'm new at this too, you know."  
  
"Yeah," Jim replied, a yawn suddenly breaking out. He shook his head and chuckled. "Why does travel wear you out?" he asked.  
  
"Don't know... but I _do_ know we have no place to be and no one to see," Blair said. "So let's take a nap."  
  
"Wow, a nap," Jim said slowly, softly. "In the middle of the day. What a concept."  
  
"Yeah, luxury, huh?" Blair said, his own yawn catching him off-guard. "It's contagious, man."  
  
"Then let's nap, Rip VanWinkle. I won't tell anyone if you don't."  
  
"Deal."  
  


* * *

  
The room faced west, which meant no view of the Sea of Cortez (which wasn't much at this distance) but did mean spectacular sunsets. Blair woke from his nap refreshed, and found himself on his side facing the sliding door window, which was brilliant with color from the setting sun. It took him a while to realize why he felt so warm and comfortable, then the cobwebs cleared and he realized that, while they had slept, Jim had spooned up behind him and now held him close.  
  
Smiling, Blair let himself be cuddled. For some reason, whenever they slept together -- an occurrence that Blair would have liked to see increased -- Jim considered him his personal plush toy and simply bundled him into strong arms. Not that Blair was complaining; it felt great, fucking fantastic, actually -- it was something he could definitely get used to.  
  
After a moment of watching the sunset and reveling in the comfort of being held, Blair felt Jim's arms tighten fractionally as he snuffled himself awake. "Nice nap?" Jim rumbled softly into his ear, making Blair shiver slightly.  
  
"Um-hmmm," he replied, unwilling to break the mood. Jim seemed to be of the same mind; his body and arms stayed where they were.  
  
"Beautiful sunset," Jim murmured after a moment.  
  
"Yeah," Blair said, then realized he was stroking the arm Jim had wrapped around his middle. But Jim didn't seem to be complaining.  
  
"Penny for 'em."  
  
Blair sighed, a contented, happy sound. "Just... comfortable. Letting my thoughts drift. Thinking about being a shaman, being a cop, being your partner..."  
  
To his surprise, Jim didn't stiffen at all, which indicated to Blair that he must be _really_ relaxed. "We never did talk about the academy gig, did we?"  
  
"Nope. Do you want to?"  
  
"We probably should, I guess," Jim said, a trace of humor in his voice. "I mean, it's probably important, right?"  
  
"A little, yeah." Blair found his lips curving up into a smile.  
  
"Just a tad."  
  
Blair's goofy mood faded as he suddenly asked, "Jim... do you think I'd make a good cop?"  
  
Jim snuggled him even closer, if that were possible. "Chief, I've already answered that," he murmured. "You're the best cop and partner I could ask for." They lay silently for a moment, then Jim continued. "Do you remember, years ago, just after we met, we were looking over that blast scene, out in the country?"  
  
Frowning in thought, Blair cast his memory back. "The switchman case?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah," Jim acknowledged. "I remember it pretty well... I think it was when I first started figuring out how much you'd be able to help me. You were talking about anthropology, and how part of your job was a lot like mine, looking at scenes, figuring out who was there and why."  
  
Blair twisted slightly in Jim's arms, so he could look in his face. "I said that?" he asked, incredulous.  
  
Jim grinned. "Yeah, Kreskin, you did. Well, not exactly like that, but close enough. And you were right. You've got the knack, Chief. You're already a good cop, badge or not."  
  
Smiling crookedly, Blair blinked at Jim. "I... huh." He fell silent, not sure what to say to that.  
  
"At a loss for words?" Jim teased gently. "I thought there was only one way to shut you up; guess I was wrong."  
  
"Up yours, Ellison," Blair chuckled. "Sometimes... you just blow my mind, man," he added. "I don't know why you keep claiming that words aren't your thing... 'cause you sure know how to use them."  
  
Jim's ears turned pink, and Blair knew he had scored a direct compliment. In a lot of ways, Jim was _so_ easy. "You're full of shit, Sandburg," he growled, but he was unable to hold down his grin at the praise.  
  
"Yeah, well, I'd rather be full of some excellent Mexican food at the moment," Blair told him, giving him his grin back. "Let's go use up some of our 'inclusives' for dinner, what do you say?"  
  
"I say, bring on the Corona," Jim replied happily.  
  


* * *

  
The beer and margaritas ("You gotta have margaritas in Mexico, duh,") were ice cold, the fajitas ("So _not_ real Mexican food, man;" but Blair scarfed his down as well) were sizzling hot, the music was nice and smooth and the company was simply outstanding. Jim Ellison found himself mellower than he could remember being in years, knowing he didn't have to drive to get home, there was no way Simon could reach him to get him to work, and that he'd be spending the night cuddled up to his furry Blair-Bear. That thought made him burst into laughter, which in turn made him realize that he'd had probably one too many Coronas. Or maybe it was the margaritas.  
  
"What?" Blair asked from his place, sagged down in his chair and jiggling slightly in time to the music.  
  
Knowing he was a dead man if he repeated his weird thought, Jim just grinned. "Just happy, I guess," he lied, but then realized it was the truth. He _was_ happy. He was also pretty sloshed. "Let's go for a walk before bed," he suggested, struggling to push back his chair.  
  
"I am down with that," Blair replied, also having a bit of difficulty in getting upright. Jim remembered Blair matching him drink for drink and bottle for bottle, so if Jim was sloshed, Blair had to be pretty wasted. Well, what of it? So they had hangovers in the morning. As Blair had said, they had no place to be and no one to see and if they wanted to indulge in their God-given right to feel like shit in the morning... "Whoa!"  
  
Nothing wrong with the ol' reflexes, Jim thought as he caught Blair's arm before he took a tumble into the table. Hauling the smaller man to him, Jim said, "Sandburg, you are blasted."  
  
Blair grinned up at him. "Ya think? Well, lemme tell you, I'm not so think as you drunk I am. And you're as wasted as me, ossifer."  
  
The both laughed at that, wrapped their arms around each other and wove their way out of the restaurant's terrace. What few patrons were left gave them odd, indulgent smiles, and they just smiled back.  
  
The moon was nearly full and bathed the lagoon-like pool with a glorious radiance. Keeping well back from the edge, the two men wandered the resort, keeping their arms around each other in unconscious affection. It was very late when they finally found their way back to their room, and between the alcohol, the good food and the late hour, they were punchy past the point of silliness. The fact that their bed had been turned down by the staff -- and the obligatory chocolate put on a pillow -- sent them into hysterics.  
  
One small part of Jim's brain was watching their behavior and tut-tutting, knowing that come morning, they'd be regretting the evening -- but the rest of him just kicked back and enjoyed watching a wasted Blair collapse on the bed in giggles. Jim stood over Blair and smiled fondly at him, trying to figure out when his friendship with this noisy, hairy little guy had turned to genuine affection and love.  
  
Blair was half on and half off the bed, his t-shirt had ridden up to expose his furry belly, and his muscles looked like cooked noodles. Weaving a bit himself, Jim managed to sit next to Blair and grab one leg. "Come on, you drunk, let's get your shoes off."  
  
"You gonna undress the rest of me, man?" Blair leered -- or rather tried to, but the giggles kept ruining the effect. Jim was finding it just as difficult to retain any level of seriousness as well, and that seemed to be affecting his dexterity, which made it difficult for him to untie Blair's Nikes. "Jim?" Blair, still giggling, managed to haul himself more-or-less upright by basically climbing Jim's arm and propping his chin on one of Jim's shoulders. "Jim? Um, we're gonna regret this in the morning, aren't we?" The chuckles that kept creeping into his words made them hard to decipher, but Jim wasn't a Sentinel for nothing.  
  
"Ah," Jim choked and tried to keep from giggling -- giggling was beneath him, after all -- but it was a losing battle. "Ayup," he managed to get out, while finally just pulling Blair's shoes off without untying them. The recoil pushed them both back to land on their backs. Still laughing.  
  
"Oh, man," Blair said, gasping. "You know, I don't think I've _hic_ ever seen you drunk, man."  
  
Jim toed off his own shoes and started struggling with the buttons on his jeans. "Don't ever 'member being this happy," he said, his fumbling fingers amusing him. "Got a lot to be happy for," he finally mumbled as the last button gave way. Deciding that was enough effort for the time being, he let his hands fall to his sides for a minute while he rested. "Got an awful lot to be happy for," he repeated, turning his head to smile at Blair.  
  
"Yeah," Blair slurred, grinning back. "Me too." Apparently he decided that getting undressed was also a good idea, and carefully managed to get his own pants open. Once he accomplished this, he lay back, smiling at the ceiling.  
  
With a grunt and a heave, Jim struggled upright, and with an amazing amount of dexterity managed to get himself stripped to his boxers. Blair followed his lead, but got tangled in the legs of his jeans, so Jim ended up helping him. Wriggling and rolling themselves on the bed, they managed to get somewhat under the covers, and almost without thought, Jim gathered Blair into his arms. "My Blair-bear," he mumbled, then snorted, remembering too late he wasn't supposed to say that out loud.  
  
Luckily, Blair didn't appear to have heard him, since he just sighed and sank into Jim's embrace. "S'nice," he murmured, then squirmed around until he could see Jim fully. "S'real nice," he added, then leaned up and kissed Jim.  
  
Jim blinked in surprise. Since that first, tentative kiss, they hadn't gone any further. Jim hardly knew how to react about the whole thing; he had been astonished at how kissing Blair had made him feel and amazed at Blair's apparent willingness to do it again. After all, they were _guys_... neither of them had ever been interested in another man before, since as far as Jim knew, Blair wasn't even bi. But having Blair in his arms felt good, felt right, and kissing Blair was just a natural extension of that. After a moment, he leaned down and kissed Blair back.  
  
Blair smiled -- a goofy, happy smile -- at the gentle kiss, then closed his eyes and leaned up again, clearly wanting more. Jim shook his head slightly, wondering why he wasn't more freaked out about the whole situation -- although the alcohol was surely helping -- even as he simply leaned down and nuzzled those lush lips again. Yep, this was a guy he was kissing... no breasts here, no sir, and he couldn't remember any woman he'd ever kissed having beard stubble.  
  
So why were these soft kisses turning him on so much?  
  
Almost of its own volition, Jim's hand skated up Blair's body to bury itself in thick, curly hair and clench. The sweet, hot mouth opening so willingly under his own made Jim moan, and the sound dragged him back from his tonsil excavation to a semblance of rationality. As gently as he had started it, he broke the kiss, panting and achingly hard.  
  
"Sandburg... Blair..." he gasped, his fingers carding through soft, dense curls while his nose rubbed against Blair's. Dazed and aroused blue eyes opened to look up at him. "What... where are we going with this? Are you all right with this?" Jim choked out his questions, terrified lest Blair come to his senses and push him away.  
  
"I must be," Blair mumbled in reply, arching and bumping his own hardness against Jim's. "Feels good, Jim, feels so good."  
  
"Yeah," Jim managed to reply before diving back into the kiss. Blair locked his hands around Jim's lower back, then moved them -- hesitantly, tentatively -- lower, to almost reflexively grab Jim's ass. He rolled them partially over, so he was more on top than Jim, and arched again, gasping into Jim's mouth. Their hard-ons met, the thin cotton boxers barely discernable, and it was Jim's turn to gasp.  
  
Fireworks went off behind Jim's eyes as the friction and heat increased against his groin. Blair whimpered and began rubbing his whole body frantically against Jim's, tilting his head to get a deeper kiss and sucking on the tongue playing inside his mouth. Suddenly, he stiffened and the pungent aroma of semen was added to the already heady scent of aroused Blair. That did it; with a slightly shocked grunt, Jim came hard, pulsing in his boxers against Blair's hip.  
  
And then -- just like the guys they were, Jim thought groggily -- they passed out.  
  


* * *

  
Blair woke up feeling warm, comfortable, sticky, and absolutely miserable. A pained whimper to his left made him turn his head, which set off some kind of horrible torture device which must have been placed in the pillow with the chocolates -- there was no way anyone could call that a headache. When the room stopped spinning around -- odd, he didn't recall that feature in the hotel brochure -- he opened his eyes to see his partner lying next to him, looking green. Or it might have been the drapes filtering the light. Hastily, he closed his eyes again.  
  
"Shoot me, Chief," Jim whispered pitifully. "Please."  
  
"Sorry, man," Blair croaked. "Not rated on firearms yet." He would have liked to pull the sheets over his head, but he couldn't figure out where his arms were, so he settled for just keeping his eyes closed, and wondered whether the maids would change the sheets if he threw up on them.  
  
"I have to get up, Chief," Jim finally mumbled, his voice sounding almost as bad as Blair felt.  
  
"I'm sorry," Blair replied, incapable of even contemplating movement -- other than the involuntary movement the room kept pushing on him.  
  
With a high-pitched, agonized whimper, Jim managed to roll over, bringing himself closer to the edge of the huge bed. Blair contemplated the inside of his eyelids while listening to Jim struggle to get up, wincing -- internally, it hurt too much for his face to become involved -- for every groan, gasp and whine. When there was no movement for a while, Blair managed to open his eyes a crack. Jim was perched -- upright, but with his head in his hands -- on the edge of the bed, unmoving. Oh, shit, could he be zoning?  
  
"Jim?" If he needs the Guide voice, he's sadly out of luck, Blair thought.  
  
"Yeah. M'okay." Jim's shaky hands ran through his sparse hair, making it stand straight up. "Uh. Hotel's got a hangover special. Lemme call 'em."  
  
Blair would have smiled to see Jim hold the phone a good two feet from his ear in order to dial and place the order -- "Two hangover specials. Room 1136. Please, please hurry." -- but it hurt to smile so he didn't.  
  
Jim was superhuman, Blair was sure of it, because if Blair felt this bad, then Jim with his senses had to be feeling immeasurably worse. Yet Jim managed to stagger into the bathroom, don one of the terry robes provided by the hotel, and use the toilet. While he was washing up -- and apparently dipping his head under the faucet to tell by the noises -- there was a knock on the door. Blair's estimation of the resort went up another few notches.  
  
There was only one thing that would have dragged Blair from bed, and it was on the tray. The waiter, smiling slightly at the sight of the two bedraggled men, thoughtfully pushed the table closer to the bed before leaving with a generous tip. Trying desperately to ignore his head, Blair sat up, moaning, "Coffee... coffee..."  
  
The 'hangover special' included coffee -- an entire pot of rich, dark roast -- along with lots of juice, several varieties of bread and a small bowl full of Alka-Seltzer, aspirin and antacids. Jim sat on the bed next to Blair and slowly the two men changed back into human beings as they ate and drank.  
  
"Getting too old for this, Chief," Jim mumbled after his third cup of coffee. Blair grunted in reply, and shifted on the bed.  
  
"Ouch," he said abruptly, glancing down at his lap. Oh, yeah. So, it wasn't a dream. He looked back up at Jim to find loving, amused eyes trained on his. "I, uh, need a shower, I guess," he said, his concern over Jim's reaction to the night before fading before calm acceptance.  
  
"Yeah, me too," Jim replied, grimacing at his own shorts.  
  
"Just something else to add to the 'talk about' pile, isn't it?" Blair asked, smiling shyly.  
  
"We got the time, Sandburg," Jim replied, and grinned, ducking his head. "Go on, you can have first dibs. You're hairier than me anyway."  
  
"You just want the other chocolate donut," Blair accused, but gratefully took him up on the offer. Pulling those boxers away from himself was going to be a painful process...  
  


* * *

  
The day was hot and sunny, perfect for a stroll on the beach. They wore their swim trunks and light, open shirts, and Jim slathered on the sun-block, at Blair's insistence. The ocean was calm, which seemed to disappoint Jim, but Blair pointed out that it just made it easier for deep-sea fishing -- they had reservations for the next day.  
  
They walked along the shoreline in companionable silence for a while, watching the little crabs skitter in and out of the waves, looking for shells. At the end of the public beach was a rocky outcrop, the huge boulders worn smooth from millennia of saltwater washing. After a glance to confirm agreement, they climbed up and wandered amid the tidal pools, enjoying the peace and quiet.  
  
After a while, Blair found a seat on a sun-warmed rock, and shortly, Jim joined him. He hesitated when Blair patted the scant space that was in front of him and a bit lower than his seat, but Blair smiled and said, "I can support you, Jim. Don't worry, I'm strong enough."  
  
Jim sighed and took the spot, leaning back into his friend. "I know, I really do, Chief," he said. Blair rested his hands on Jim's shoulders and rubbed absently.  
  
"I understand," he murmured, staring at the deep blue of the sea before them. "You're a protector. It's what you do."  
  
Shaking his head sharply, Jim said, "Yeah, but there's more to it than that. I know you can protect yourself. And I know... if we become partners, if you go to the academy, I'll have to trust that knowledge more. It's just..." He trailed off, and though Blair couldn't see his face, he bet that Jim was frowning into the distance. "It's... it's kind of like with Alex, I guess. At the end. When she... I felt so helpless. Couldn't help her at all."  
  
"That was different. You felt helpless because you were helpless, in that particular situation. Remember what the wolf said, Jim," Blair said, swallowing. "It was a choice. She decided. And she decided to reject your help."  
  
After a moment, Jim reached up and captured one of Blair's hands, twisting so he could see Blair more clearly. "What..." He cleared his throat and tried again. "What's your choice, Blair? What would you choose?" he asked, and his heart showed in his eyes.  
  
Blair smiled. He let his arms drape around his Sentinel and pressed their foreheads together. "I choose you, Jim," he said, huskily, through the lump in his throat. "I'd always choose you. Even when you drive me crazy." Jim chuckled a little and squeezed Blair's hand. "What happened last night..."  
  
"I'm sorry about that," Jim said, hurriedly. "I hope it didn't, well, you know, make you uncomfortable..."  
  
"I was just going to say that to you," Blair said, laughing. "It... it didn't bother me, Jim. I've always been, well, open-minded about sexuality. Even mine."  
  
"Have you ever..." Jim raised his eyebrows, and Blair shook his head.  
  
"Not really, no," he replied. "Once, I took part in this rite -- it was for the young, unblooded warriors of this tribe I was studying, where all the young men sat in a circle, in the men's hut, well... I guess here we'd probably call it a circle jerk. No, really," he said, when Jim burst out laughing.  
  
"Where was this, Dr. Livingston?" Jim asked, his eyes twinkling.  
  
"In Sumatra," Blair said, haughtily, but then became serious again. "That's, well, that's the closest. What about you?"  
  
Jim pursed his lips and shook his head. "No, but I guess I'm like you. The idea doesn't bother me, it's just, well, I've never looked at another guy in that way. Well, until now," he added softly, and Blair grinned to see his ears turn pink.  
  
"Um..." Blair let Jim turn back to face the ocean, but didn't let go of him. "If we... I mean, if we, if _I_ go to the academy, and we, you know, are like this... would... would it be a problem? You know, at the station?"  
  
Jim leaned back a little more, letting Blair take more of his weight. "I... don't think so. There's no _specific_ regs against it; fraternization, yeah, but this would be different. I'd have to check, but, I mean, it's nobody's business but ours, right?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Blair agreed quickly.  
  
"I mean, I've never been one to care what other people think, and you haven't either, right?"  
  
"No," Blair replied honestly. "It's never bothered me. And yes, I've heard all the rumors about us at the station. I know you have too. It wouldn't... I mean, it would be okay with you if we...?"  
  
Blair had leaned forward and was resting his chin on Jim's shoulder, so he felt the smile start. "I... uh. It would... I think I'd like that," Jim finished, softly.  
  
"Me too," Blair admitted, and hugged his Sentinel tightly.  
  
"Of course," Jim said wryly, "I've got no idea what we'd be doing..."  
  
Laughing, Blair said, "Well, same here... but, well, you know there's, there's things. Stuff we could do. And places where we could do, well, research."  
  
"Research." Jim half-turned and shot Blair an incredulous look. "I'll leave that up to you, Professor," he said, holding back chuckles. After a moment, he turned back to face the ocean. "I... I guess this makes us, what... gay now?"  
  
Blair shrugged. "That's a label, Jim. Like you said, it only matters to us. We've kept the Sentinel thing a secret -- barely --" Jim squeezed Blair's arm -- "we can keep this one -- uh, 'in the closet' as it were."  
  
"Well, except for Simon, maybe," Jim said thoughtfully, ignoring the jibe. "He should probably know. I mean, _if_ you're going to the academy..."  
  
Jim had tensed up under Blair's arms, but Blair wouldn't let him avoid it. Giving Jim a little shake, Blair said, "Stop that. I know what you're thinking, you know."  
  
"Oh, you do."  
  
"Yeah, I do. It's a shaman thing -- you wouldn't understand." Blair grinned when Jim relaxed with a bark of laughter. "I just... I think, somewhere deep down, I've already made up my mind. I mean, think about it. I'm supposed to be a shaman... well, what does a shaman do? Helps his tribe." Blair chewed on his lower lip while his eyes gazed at nothing and his brain whirled. "My tribe, well, I guess my tribe is Cascade. I can't be _just_ a teacher, because that wouldn't be helping the whole tribe, would it?" After a moment of thinking, he added, "And then, of course, there's you."  
  
"Me?" Jim laced the fingers of one of his hands through Blair's.  
  
"Yeah, you. I mean, Incacha passed on the Way to me... because I am your guide. Partially, any way. Right?"  
  
It was Jim's turn to think, and Blair imagined he could see the smoke coming from his ears. Eventually, he said, "You might be right. I don't think you have to be a shaman to be my guide, but I'm sure it doesn't hurt." Levering himself up, Jim turned and gave Blair a hand. "C'mon, let's meander back to the hotel. It'll be dinner time soon, and I could use a dip in the pool before."  
  
"That sounds like a plan," Blair agreed, letting himself be drawn up. Standing, they were on different rocks that nearly negated their height difference, and Blair found himself able to look Jim in the eye. Jim hadn't let go of his hand either, and now used it to tug Blair closer.  
  
"I want you to know... I'll support you, Blair. Whatever you want to do," he said, sincerely and quietly. "I mean, I don't even have to be a cop, not if you don't want to."  
  
Blair looked at him askance. "Jim, I think you're going a bit overboard here," he said, laughing nervously. "I can't see you as anything _but_ a cop."  
  
"No?" Jim asked, turning them and picking their way back to the beach. He still had Blair's hand and didn't seem likely to relinquish it. "I have... seen me as something other than a cop, I mean. A mechanic, for instance." When Blair gave him an incredulous look, he added, "Think about it. All I'd have to do is drive a car ten feet before I'd know what was wrong with it. Or... or... maybe a secret agent. Like James Bond. And you can be my beautiful sidekick."  
  
"Man, you are _so_ out of it..." Blair laughed. "What has gotten into you?"  
  
"I don't know," Jim replied, giving Blair one of the smiles that melted his brain. "But whatever it is, I like it."  
  


* * *

  
The pool was cool enough to be refreshing, and one section was even roped off for laps. Jim and Blair took advantage of that to stretch their muscles and work out the last of their hangovers with exercise. Showers and changes later, they were back on the terrace restaurant, enjoying some seriously delicious seafood and definitely staying away from the margaritas. Two Coronas apiece this time, so when they did retire to their room, they were quite sober.  
  
It might have been easier had they been sloshed again, Jim reflected.  
  
They stood on opposite sides of the huge bed... it was more than a king, Jim thought, it was a fucking football field. Sandburg had said eight could fit if they were well acquainted, and, well, yeah; he was right. He looked up to catch Blair looking at him, and both of them blushed, then laughed nervously.  
  
"This is stupid," Blair said, running his hand thought his hair. "I feel like a... like a... I don't know what!" He laughed and looked back at Jim. "I'm going to get ready for bed, and... and... and all... I'll be right out, okay?"  
  
"Yeah," Jim replied. "I'll... I'll go in after you." Quickly stripping down to his boxers, Jim was ready when Blair emerged from the bathroom, also stripped down, and took his place to brush his teeth and use the toilet. He couldn't tell if he was nervous because he was excited, or if he was just plain nervous. Either way, there was no more hiding in the bathroom.  
  
The room was dark when he came out, but he knew Blair was already under the covers, waiting for him. He swallowed and gingerly slipped between the sheets, scooting closer to the warm spot next to Blair. Hesitantly, he reached out, and was surprised and relieved when Blair simply rolled into his arms. "Why," Blair said, nuzzling his chest, "if the situation feels weird, does this part feel so... right?"  
  
"I don't know," Jim replied, burying his nose in fragrant hair, "but you're right. It does feel good like this. I love being able to hold you."  
  
"I love you holding me," Blair said, grinning. "The way you just pull me into your arms... I feel like your teddy bear or something sometimes, and it's nice."  
  
Greatly daring, Jim smiled slyly. "Can I call you my Blair-bear?" he asked.  
  
"You do and you're dead," Blair retorted, but he couldn't hold back the grin. "I... I like it when you kiss me, too," he continued, softly. "And I really like kissing you back."  
  
"Damn, Sandburg," Jim whined facetiously, "I feel like a teenager. We're grown men, we ought to be able to just... to just..."  
  
"You can't even say it," Blair hooted, and Jim laughed with him.  
  
"Shut up and kiss me, you moron," Jim finally said as their chortles wound down.  
  
"I thought you'd never ask, caveman," Blair replied. Surprising Jim, he reared up and pushed Jim flat on his back, climbing on top of him, looming over him in the darkness. Blair's hair fell around them like a soft curtain, and Jim reached up to tangle his hands in it. "I love you," Blair said, almost wondrously, then grinned so brilliantly Jim could have read by the light.  
  
Jim thought his face would split he was smiling so wide, and he gave the head in his hands just a tiny shake. "I thought you'd _never_ figure it out," he said, then when Blair opened his mouth to protest, Jim pulled him down and sealed their lips together and they were off and running. The flame that had been banked all day burst into life, igniting Jim's nerves all the way down to his toes.  
  
Determined to go slow and remember this one, Jim carefully dialed touch down a notch, after realizing that he was already hard and ready. Leaving one hand anchored in Blair's hair, he let the other skate down Blair's back, caressing the soft skin and light, downy hair.  
  
Blair's kisses were intoxicating, maddening, and Jim almost felt like he could explode from that alone. The silky skin under his petting hand was alive with goosebumps, and Blair shuddered. Jim's hand drifted down to probe at the waistband of the boxers Blair wore, and, gasping, Blair broke the kiss. "Is this okay?" Jim asked, his fingers dipping below to the warmth beneath the cotton.  
  
"Yeah," Blair panted, holding himself over Jim on trembling arms and legs. Keeping his hands where they were, Jim shifted and rolled them over, kissing a trail from Blair's mouth to his neck then settling him on his back. In the back of his mind, the small, still-rational part of him worried that Blair might feel trapped if Jim lay fully on him, so Jim was careful to give them both a little space -- while continuing his explorations.  
  
"You taste as good as you smell," he mumbled, licking and nibbling across Blair's collarbone and neck. There were pockets here and there of concentrated Blair scent -- some of it corrupted with chlorine from the pool, but most clean and pure and for some reason, terribly exciting to Jim. Blair's chest hair was crisp and tickled his nose, and his nipples hid within, asking for attention. Jim latched on to one and licked, then bit gently.  
  
Blair arched, moaning. "Oh... God... How..." Reduced to an almost preverbal state. Jim patted himself on the back but kept exploring, incapable of stopping now. There was so much to experience, and he wanted it all. Blair's hands were restless, patting his head, stroking his shoulders, but not keeping him from his self-assigned task.  
  
Jim briefly gave the other nipple a lick and taste, then moved down, along Blair's sides, noting ticklish spots and areas that caused gasps and moans for future reference. "It's so different," he mumbled into Blair's navel. "So... hard, so hairy. God, you taste so good..." Blair was apparently not listening, or if he was, he was incapable of remarking on it.  
  
Lifting himself up, Jim hesitantly eased the cotton boxers down and off Blair's thighs, then quickly shed his own. His partner -- his lover, now -- had his eyes closed and was gasping for breath, trembling all over. Jim looked down again at the evidence of arousal and swallowed nervously. Blair's penis was furiously erect, red-purple at the head, and his fuzzy balls were drawn up tight against his body. No, this most definitely wasn't a woman. With one finger, Jim traced the strangely familiar velvet soft/hardness of a cock other than his own, which drew a whimper out of Blair. There was a drop of moisture at the tip; curiously, Jim touched his finger to it, then brought it to his lips. Salty sweetness filled his mouth, and with a groan he lowered his head to more accurately scent and taste his fill.  
  
Concentrated Blair; a whiff of chlorine; Ivory soap; salt. Jim buried his nose in the top of Blair's thighs, nuzzled the root of his manhood and breathed deep, letting the scent imprint itself on him, drawing it right into his soul. Blair keened softly, letting his legs fall apart and inviting Jim deeper, letting him farther in. Jim felt his dials begin to spin out of control and whimpered himself, feeling the tight burn begin at the base of his spine.  
  
"Jim... please..." Blair's voice was choked and raw, and his hands scrabbled for purchase on Jim's shoulders. With Herculean effort, Jim dragged himself up Blair's torso and latched onto his mouth, frantically jerking his hips, both sets of hands pulling each other as close as possible. It was too much for Jim -- his senses went totally out of control, he felt his orgasm racing towards him at light speed, inevitable, inexorable; one of his hands leapt into Blair's hair to hold tight and he ripped his mouth away from Blair's to howl his completion.  
  
Wailing, Blair clutched at Jim's hips and jerked as his own finish overtook him, adding to the mess on their stomachs. They both sagged down, but Jim would not let go of Blair's hair, even while he snagged some boxers... didn't matter whose... and blotted at the sticky mess.  
  
Holding each other tightly, they fell asleep.  
  


* * *

  
"Good morning, sunshine."  
  
The murmured words in his ear made Blair smile. Of course Jim would know the exact second he woke. Snuggling back into the strong arms that held him tightly, Blair murmured, "Good morning yourself, caveman."  
  
Jim chuckled, a throaty sound that was decidedly different from his ordinary chuckles and which gave Blair a delicious shiver. Twisting and stretching, Blair turned to look at Jim, who had a sleepy, cat-who-ate-the-canary look on his face. Mindful of his morning breath, Blair leaned up and kissed his new lover gently. "What time is it?" he asked, settling back down, this time in the crook of Jim's arm.  
  
"Nearly eight." The arm under Blair's head stretched out and Jim snuggled him closer. "What time do we have to be at the dock?"  
  
"Ten-ish," Blair replied.  
  
"You want breakfast here or on the terrace?"  
  
"Mmmmm..." Blair said, kissing the flesh under his nose. "I suppose just staying here all day is out of the question, then."  
  
Jim's voice rumbled deliciously in his chest as he chuckled. "What, skip deep-sea fishing? The fishing trip _you_ promised me?"  
  
"Um, yeah," Blair replied, grinning. "Trade fishing for staying in bed with your cuddle toy all day. Sounds good to me."  
  
"Mmmm..." Jim put his wrinkled up, frowning-thinking face on, but he couldn't fool Blair. "I don't know, Chief. Deep sea fishing only comes along once in a while... and we can do this any time..." Suddenly his face cleared and he looked at Blair with a tender, astonished smile. "We can, can't we?" he asked softly.  
  
Blair's face split into a grin. "Yeah, we can," he agreed. "Yeah. So let's go fishing, partner."  
  
"You're on, partner," Jim replied, but kissed Blair deeply before letting him go. They shared what was surely a fatuous look, then started their day.  
  


* * *

  
Just another beautiful day in paradise was how Blair saw it... hot sun, cool breezes, an ocean that was relatively calm and a fishing trip where Jim nearly caught a monstrous marlin which managed to escape at the last minute. They weren't too unhappy about it, though, since, as Jim pointed out, it would have been pretty hard to get it back to Cascade.  
  
They argued good-naturedly over the size of the fish all the way back to their room after eating dinner in town -- a lovely little family place that served real corn tortillas and a black-bean soup thick enough to stand a spoon in. Blair'd had vague worries that their friendship might suffer with their new relationship, but it hadn't seemed to... they were still easy and comfortable with each other, even though both knew they'd be sharing more than a bed come nighttime.  
  
The room felt almost homey now, and Blair knew he'd miss it. But it was the last night of their three-night vacation, a three night period he knew they'd always remember. A red blinking light on the phone made him frown when he noticed it. "A message?" he said. "Who'd we leave this number with?"  
  
"Well, Joel has it, for emergencies," Jim replied, also frowning. He picked up the handset and read the instructions. "It's voice mail. Let me get it."  
  
A few keystrokes later, Joel's recorded voice came over the phone. Blair leaned in closely and Jim obligingly turned the handset out to let him listen. "Jim, it's Joel. I'm real sorry to interrupt your vacation, man, but Darryl said I should call to let you know. Mrs. Williams has had a heart attack, and is in Cascade General. Darryl said not to worry, she's stable and everything looks good, but he figured you'd kill him if he didn't let you know. You can call me if you need to, I've got all the info. Hope you're having fun."  
  
Blair had stiffened and gasped at Joel's words, and once Jim deleted the message he turned and wrapped Blair in his arms. "She's okay, Blair," he murmured soothingly. "She's too mean to die on us." Blair could hear Jim's voice quaver a little as he spoke though, so he knew Jim was as shaken as he was.  
  
"I know," he whispered back, taking comfort from Jim's strong arms.  
  
"Do you want to call? Joel or Violet?" Jim said into Blair's hair.  
  
"I -- " Blair thought about it for a moment... Joel had said she was stable, it could be nothing more than a mild coronary event, and Violet would probably be busy. "No. No. I don't think I need to. And there's no sense in trying to get back sooner either; our plane leaves mid-morning tomorrow anyway."  
  
"Yeah," Jim agreed, not letting go. "We can go right to the hospital from the airport, if you want."  
  
"That would be a good idea," Blair said, resting his head on Jim's shoulder. He strove for a normal tone of voice. "She has terrible timing, man."  
  
"Uh-huh." After a few moments, Jim pulled away a bit from Blair and looked down into his eyes. "Let's... let's get ready for bed, okay? We've got an early morning."  
  
Blair nodded. "Okay. Kind of puts a damper on the vacation, doesn't it?" he added.  
  
"Nothing can do that, Blair," Jim replied sincerely. "This has been the best vacation of my life."  
  
Flushed with pleasure at Jim's words, Blair smiled warmly. "Now, how is that possible, Detective Ellison? Nobody shot at us, no one was kidnapped, we ran into no drug runners or escapees from a prison or mental inst-- mmmph!"  
  
Jim shut Blair up most expeditiously by simply sealing his mouth over Blair's and kissing him hard. They were panting slightly as the kiss ended, and Jim's grin was smug. "Hurry up and come to bed, motor-mouth," he said.  
  


* * *

  
They made it to the hospital by four, and knew, having called Darryl from the truck, that Violet would be there too. Grandmother was sleeping and didn't look at all well, but she was in a semi-private room and not in CICU, so she had to be out of the worst of the danger. Violet was at her bedside when Jim and Blair arrived.  
  
Violet filled them in on what had happened; how Grandmother had been more irascible than normal, complaining of heartburn and a headache for more than a day before collapsing Friday morning. Her cardiologist had been concerned over her blood pressure, which wasn't good, and her circulation, which was downright poor. An IV dripped blood thinners and relaxants into her bloodstream, and Violet confirmed she was out of it most of the time, which is what the doctors wanted.  
  
"Fat lot of good those _st'thek'w_ do," a harsh voice whispered, interrupting their quiet conversation. Violet stood and leaned over the bed.  
  
"Grandmother? How do you feel?" she asked softly. "Do you want some water?"  
  
"Yes, _k'weit'en_ , please," she replied, not opening her eyes. "Is that Blair?"  
  
"I'm here, Grandmother," Blair said, taking her hand from the other side of the bed. Grandmother sipped at the water through a straw, then cleared her throat.  
  
"And is that big lump with you?" she asked.  
  
Jim smiled crookedly and squeezed Blair's hand. "Yeah, I'm here, Grandmother," he said.  
  
Finally, Grandmother Raven opened her eyes, just a crack, and examined the two of them. What she saw obviously pleased her, for she smiled and settled back down, closing her eyes again. "Good. It's about time you became _snat'the_ and _sena'kw_. Took you long enough." Her breathing evened out, and a quick glance to Jim confirmed she had fallen asleep again.  
  
Violet regarded them with huge eyes. "You did? You are? Wow." She blinked at them and Blair found himself blushing.  
  
"Uh, what did I miss here?" Jim asked, the look on his face clearly saying he had a feeling he knew what it was.  
  
"Grandmother saw that you were mated," Violet said before Blair could open his mouth. Jim groaned deep in his chest and hid his face in one hand. But the other one he kept in Blair's, holding tightly. "Oh, it's okay, I understand," Violet said earnestly, making the whole situation more difficult. "I think it's sweet."  
  
"Violet." Blushing furiously, Blair tried to keep his voice at least under control. "Squawgirl... please, just don't say anything," he begged, but the twinkle in her eye made him wince.  
  
"Oh, don't worry, Curly, I won't," she reassured him. "Besides, I can't afford an ad in the newspaper." Both men glared at her and she laughed softly. "Kidding, guys! Just kidding. I'm really happy for you and I won't tell anyone."  
  
Only slightly reassured, Blair looked back down at Grandmother. Her skin was pale and looked loose on her, as though she had lost weight. "She looks so weak," he whispered, unused to feeling that way about the strong woman in the bed.  
  
"Oh, that reminds me," Violet said. "I need your help, Blair. I can't take this out alone, and she can't help me." From the bedside table, Violet pulled a soft leather pouch, opening the drawstring top carefully. "The staff insisted it had to be off when she was in CICU, but she can wear it now." Upending the pouch, she spilled a small, strangely shaped rock on a leather thong out to the blanket. "I can't pick it up myself, but the two of us can."  
  
"What is it?" Blair asked, feeling a strange thrill as he looked at the necklace.  
  
"It's a power stone," Violet said. "Grandmother wears it around her neck. I think it's very old and very powerful. It should go a long way towards helping her restore herself."  
  
"Why can't you just put it on her?" Jim asked frowning.  
  
"If I could, I would," Violet said. "It's almost like it has a life of its own. Blair, if you take one side, I can take one side, and Jim, if you can lift her head, we can slip it around her neck."  
  
Jim was clearly unhappy with her explanation, but he helped them get the necklace on Grandmother. Blair's strange feeling about the stone intensified as he lifted the thing -- it felt almost like a buzzing along his nerve endings, starting at his fingers. It stopped as soon as he let go of the thong, though. He watched as Violet carefully placed the stone against Grandmother's skin, under her nightgown, and wasn't surprised when she began to look a bit better almost immediately.  
  
"I'm going to smuggle Morrie in this evening," Violet said, tucking the sheet around Grandmother. "She needs to see that everything's all right. She's been very worried, afraid she's let down her duties since she can't be with Grandmother all the time." Violet kept her eyes on Grandmother as she spoke, and Blair looked at Jim. "Why don't you two come back tonight, around seven? She's usually awake then. Darryl and I will be here, with Morrie."  
  
Blair walked around to the other side of the bed and hugged Violet tightly. "We'll do that, Squawgirl," he said. "She's going to be fine."  
  
"I know," Violet said, hugging him back. When Blair let go, she reached out to Jim, who also hugged her. "Thanks for coming by, guys. I'll see you tonight."  
  


* * *

  
"We need to stop at the grocery store on the way back," Blair said, as he and Jim walked to the truck in the hospital parking lot.  
  
"Yeah," Jim replied, his mind still back in the room. "We can hit that Safeway for now, then do a real shop tomorrow after work."  
  
"Okay. But I can go to the store tomorrow instead, and that will leave us free to visit Grandmother in the evening." Blair lifted himself into the truck and cinched his seatbelt.  
  
"You don't have to do that," Jim objected mildly. "It can wait, and I can do it. After all, you've been doing it a lot lately." He started the truck and backed out.  
  
"Jim, I've got the time," Blair said. "I don't mind."  
  
"I just don't want you to feel like... well, to feel like you're..."  
  
"Your wife?" Blair grinned cheekily. "Naw, I'd get a better paycheck for that," Blair laughed.  
  
Jim snorted and smacked him gently on the head. "Wiseass. Um..." His voice trailed off and Blair turned to look at him curiously. Seeing Jim's ears turn pink, Blair grinned.  
  
"Okay, caveman, out with it," he said. "I can read you like a book, man. What are you thinking?"  
  
"Well..." Jim paid an inordinate amount of attention the nearly deserted road which was clearly a ploy to avoid looking at Blair. "I was, well, I was wondering. If... you know, if you'd like to, well..."  
  
"Jim..."  
  
"Ifyou'dliketomoveupstairswithme," Jim said, all in a rush. Blair's mouth fell open and he felt indescribably pleased.  
  
"Why, Jim Ellison, are you proposing?" he asked, not bothering to hide his delight.  
  
"Yeah, moron, I want you to wear a wedding dress so we could get married," Jim replied, but he was grinning. "Can you imagine the field day the press would have over that one?"  
  
"Hey, I look awful in white," Blair replied, then pried one of Jim's hands off the steering wheel to squeeze it. "Yeah, Jim. Yeah. I'd like that. I think I'd like that a lot."  
  
"Good."  
  
Blair could tell how happy Jim was, and decided to take it a bit further. "I think... I'd also like to do something else." Jim tossed him a curious glance. "I'm going to the academy, Jim. I've made up my mind."  
  
Jim swallowed heavily, then made the turn into the Safeway parking lot. Pulling into the first available space, he turned and looked at Blair. "Are you sure?" he asked, softly.  
  
"I'm sure. I'm very sure." They looked into each other's misty eyes for a few moments, then Jim leaned across the bench seat and gently kissed Blair.  
  
"Thank you, Blair," he said. "I love you."  
  
"Yeah, I know," Blair replied. "I love you too, Jim."  
  
"You do realize we're getting close to making out in a public space?" Jim asked, grinning ear-to-ear at his soon-to-be-official partner.  
  
"Ah, joke 'em if they can't take a fuck," Blair said, and kissed Jim again.

end


End file.
